Letters to Isabella

twenty nine.

Ross' POV

The car came to a screeching halt outside of the hospital and Laura quickly gestured for the four of us to jump out. "I'm going to try and find a parking space. You guys go on inside, I'll be there in a second."

I nodded and quickly ushered the kids and myself out of the car. I guided them over to the safety of the pavement and waved Laura off before helping the three of them in through the double doors of our local hospital.

Dean and Isabella had their hands intertwined as they walked steadily in front of both Bailey and I to the waiting area and although I hated the fact that he was holding my daughter's hand I couldn't say anything. He needed the comfort right now and if my little girl could provide that for him then so be it.

I sat Bailey down beside Isabella and Dean before turning on my heel to face the receptionist desk. "I'm going to go and talk to that lady over there." I announced, pointing my finger in the direction of a middle aged brunette woman standing behind the desk. "Stay here, okay? Don't move unless I say so."

The three of them sheepishly nodded their heads at me and I quickly made my way over to the receptionists desk. I didn't have any time to spare. I needed to find Dean's father as quickly as I could so that I could find out what was going on once and for all.

I slowly approached the middle aged lady and forced my lips into a smile. I had to seem friendly, despite being in one of the worst moods of my life. I laid my hands out on the desk and sighed. "Hey. I'm looking for —" I paused and turned my head in Dean's direction. I didn't even know his last name, let alone his father's name. "Hey Dean?" I called out. He glanced up at me and nodded, his blue eyes filled with tears. "What's your dad's name?"

The receptionist tutted to herself from behind me but I didn't care.

"Michael Morris." He replied hoarsely. "That's his name."

I nodded gratefully and quickly turned back to the receptionist who seemed to be rolling her eyes at the situation I'd been placed into. I gestured to Dean and frowned. "My daughters friend — that kid over there, his father, Michael Morris and his younger sister have been brought here tonight after a car accident. Could you possibly give me some information of their whereabouts?"

The receptionist, whose name tag simply read, Sandra, began to log some information into the computer in front of her. The keyboard obnoxiously tapped away and after a few moments of silence, she raised her eyebrows and sighed. "I'm sorry Sir. I'm not allowed to disclose any information of Mr Morris' whereabouts with you. It's for security reasons only. It would be against our policy if I shared his private information with you."

"But that's his son!" I argued, trying to keep my voice at a lower pitch so that I wouldn't worry the kids or anyone else in the hospital. The last thing I wanted to do was get us kicked out. I was responsible for Dean, I had to get him to his father one way or another. "Do you really think I'd show up here tonight with some random kid and pretend that he was the son to some random man I've never even met before in my entire life?"

The woman stared blankly at me and then nodded, her lips staying in a perfect frown. "Yes, I do actually." She replied. She tensed her shoulders and sighed. "I'm sorry but we can't take any risks, Sir. This is a hospital, not a brothel."

"I'm aware of that." I snapped back. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. I held it in front of her face and exhaled in defeat. This was my last shot. After this, it would be game over. "Please." I begged. "I'll do anything. I just need to know where his father is so that I can reunite them and make sure that he's got a family to stay with tonight."